The Best Birthday Ever
by alyells
Summary: ONESHOT; It's Jane's eleventh birthday and she's so excited, but everyone has forgotten about her special day! To what lengths will she go to get the attention she wants? First Mary Poppins fanfic, may be edited in the furute. R&R!


While most of the occupants of Number 17 Cherry Tree Lane were sound asleep at such an early hour on a Saturday morning, Jane Banks found she could no longer sleep. It wasn't nearly time to be up; Mary Poppins wouldn't be in to wake up them for at least another two hours.

Jane stood in the window in her pink house coat, watching the sun rise slowly over the London skyline, wishing with all her might that the hours could pass quickly. After all, today was a special day for Jane. It wasn't every day that a girl turned eleven.

The robin that nested in the tree outside the nursery chirped merrily, ruffling it's wings and looking skyward.

'Good morning,' she whispered quietly to the robin, who winked at her – _winked at her? _That wasn't possible; robins did simply _not_ wink.

She spent the morning in the window, watching as a stray cat or two passed beneath the window. In her mind, she imagined them silently wishing her a happy birthday, and an excited feeling came over her. Today was going to be the best birthday she would ever have; she was sure of it. She wondered what special things Mary Poppins would have planned for her birthday. Mary Poppins was just the person to make a special day even special-er; if that was a word.

When her brother, Michael, began to stir, Jane could no longer contain her excitement.

'Get up, Michael,' she cried, leaping on all fours onto his bed and jumping so he rocked around, and couldn't possibly sleep. 'Come on, silly, get up!'

'Jane, kindly keep down that noise,' Mary Poppins said, entering the nursery and tying a white apron around her waist.

Jane hopped back off the bed and hurried over to her nanny, watching as she stuck an extra pin in her tidy black hair. 'Mary Poppins, don't you know what day it is?'

'Why, of course I do,' said Mary. 'It's Saturday.'

'Yes, but don't you know why this day is _special_?'

''Cause we're going on an outing,' chimed Michael, finally getting up and straightening his bed covers.

Jane's mouth dropped open in astonishment. How could they have forgotten? It was her birthday!

'Jane, close your mouth please,' Mary said, putting a hand under Jane's chin and gently pushing her jaw back into place. 'We are not a cod fish.'

Michael sniggered and went to get dressed. Jane sat on the edge of her unmade bed and crossed her arms sulkily. Well, Mother and Father will remember, she told herself, not altogether sure if it was true.

When Jane, Michael and Mary Poppins entered the kitchen, Cook had a fine breakfast laid out, and her mother and father were already sitting at the table. Mr Banks was reading his newspaper, his face completely hidden, and Mrs Banks was smoothing her skirts and smiling serenely.

'Lovely day, isn't it, Mary Poppins,' said Mrs Banks, as Mary sat down.

'Absolutely. Well, children,' she said, 'tuck in.'

Jane pulled a plate of toast towards her, and watched her mother in horror. Had she forgotten, too?

"Mother,' said Jane timidly. 'Don't you know what day it is?'

'Of course, dear, it's April 17th.'

Jane's jaw dropped open again momentarily, but after catching Mary Poppins' stern eye, she closed her mouth again. 'But, Mother, don't you know what's special about today?' Jane found her voice wasn't like it normally was at all; she sounded very harsh and angry.

'Why, yes,' said Mrs Banks, sounding slightly ruffled at Jane's tone, and cutting her sausage into small pieces. Jane smiled hopefully. 'It's the day of your father's presentation at the bank!'

Jane's face fell. She felt Mary's eyes on her again, and busied herself spreading raspberry jam on her toast. She couldn't believe that everyone had forgotten.

'Very right you are, Winifred,' Mr Banks said proudly, folding his paper. 'I'm being honored today with the Accountant of the Year award. It's a very special day indeed.'

'_Maybe for you,'_ Jane thought bitterly. _'It was supposed to be special for me!'_

Not unlike other times, Jane regretted thinking it instantly, when Mary Poppins gave her yet another stern look, and the impression that she could read her thoughts. She munched slowly on her toast, finding she was not that hungry at all.

Mr Banks was the first to leave the table. He called a cherry thank you to Cook, kissed his wife on the cheek, thumped Michael on the shoulder and patted Jane on the head, and was gone. Mrs Banks left next, smiling at them all, and kissing both her children.

'Have a good day, Mother,' called Michael after her.

Jane left her toast abandoned on her plate, barely touched.

'Hurry up and eat, Jane,' said Michael, wiping his face with a napkin. 'I want to get going!'

'Yes, come now, Jane,' said Mary quickly. 'Time is ticking, and we're not going to get anything done if you continue to sit there like a stopped watch.'

'I'm not hungry,' Jane said honestly. 'Can't we just go now?'

'Not until you've finished,' Mary said, folding her hands on the table and looking expectantly at Jane. Michael bounced in his chair. 'Stop that, Michael, you're not on a pogo stick.' He stopped.

Jane looked back at Mary, not touching her toast. She was miserable; everyone had forgotten her birthday, and she was certainly not eating anything if she wasn't hungry. Mary raised her eyebrows slightly.

'Well,' she said, waiting.

'I'm not hungry,' Jane said again. Mary set her jaw and gave Jane a hard look.

'That is quite beside the point. You have to eat, or we won't be going anywhere.'

'I'm not hungry,' Jane said for the third time. Mary stood up and moved to Jane's chair, grabbed her by the elbow and brought her firmly, yet gently, to her feet. She marched down the hall, up the stairs and into the nursery, Michael following closely at her heel, looking nervous. Neither he nor Jane had ever gone against Mary Poppins' wishes. He had no idea what was about to happen.

Mary led Jane to her bed, and released her elbow. Jane stood, staring defiantly. Why should she have to behave or be obedient today? It was supposed to be all about her!

'I suppose we'll just have to stay here,' Mary said, glancing out the window at the sunshine that was now coursing through, and back at Jane. Michael began to protest, but Mary held up a single finger and he was silenced.

'You can find plenty to do to entertain yourself until your sister decides to eat,' said Mary sternly. Michael nodded and stepped quickly to a pile of army men on the floor, sitting to play with them.

'But I want to go outside,' Jane said, whining. 'It's so nice out, and –'

'There's no sense in complaining, Jane. Now, get yourself dressed and make your bed. Spit spot!' she said, clapping her hands briskly. Jane did not move, but stared at Mary in disbelief. Make her bed? On her birthday? No way!

'I won't,' she said, avoiding Mary's eyes, which had narrowed slightly.

'Very well,' said Mary, and she walked away quickly, lifting her skirts and stepping over Michael's army men. She snapped her fingers; they leapt up and walked towards the toy box to put themselves away. 'Get your coat, please, Michael. It's rather chilly for April.'

Michael obligingly went to his hook behind the nursery door and took down his coat. He fitted it on over his sweater and tucked a hat round his ears.

'Where are you going?' Jane asked incredulously, her eyes wide in disbelief. Mary was putting on her fitted black dress coat and buttoning the front securely. She grabbed her black umbrella with a parrot head handle and tucked it under her arm.

'Michael wants to go on an outing,' said Mary. 'So, I'm taking him.'

'And can't _I_ come,' asked Jane, her eyes brimming with tears. 'It's my bir-'

'I won't have misbehaving girls spoil my lovely day in the park,' Mary said, a note of finality to her voice that made Jane think twice about answering back. Her mouth gaped open once again, but this time, Mary did not correct her on it.

Instead, she laid a hand on Michael's shoulder, and they left the room, the door closing with a foreboding _click,_ as though daring Jane to call after them. She did not, but laid herself down on her unmade bed and buried her face in the feather pillow; this was so unfair! No one remembered her birthday, Mary was cross with her, and she was left all alone in the house with only Cook for company. It was most definitely the worst birthday she had ever had.

After what seemed like an hour of lying face first in her pillow, Jane sat up and straightened her nightgown. She tucked her hair behind her ears and whispered to herself:

'I'm running away. That'll show them! They won't be able to ignore me if I'm not ever here.'

Jane got dressed quickly, leaving her coat neglected on the hook, and moved to the nursery door. She put her hand on the shiny golden knob, expecting it to be locked; it twisted and the door opened normally. Jane looked out in the hall, listening for any sound of Cook, but all was silent.

She slipped out into the hall and tiptoed down the long staircase. Looking both left and right, Jane quietly moved to the front door, and this one, too, opened easily. She left the house and closed the door behind her as softly as she could.

The wind blew leaves and dust around the street, howling and tangling her hair, but except for a small Yorkshire terrier walking across the neighbour's lawn there was no one around to see her. Jane's stomach twisted slightly; she wasn't used to being out alone, without Michael or Mary Poppins with her.

She set off in the direction of the river Mary sometimes took her and Michael to, looking over her shoulder every few steps. It was strangely quiet with no one telling her to look both ways as she crossed the street, or to be careful of the many cracks in the sidewalk. She was oddly lonely, and felt the burning start up in her eyes again.

_I'm not going to cry,_ she thought. _Mary Poppins always says that tears are for serious things, not for childish nonsense. _

The walk to the river seemed much longer than it had when Michael had constantly begged Jane to run a little bit of the way with him, stopping to catch their breath occasionally and listening as Mary called, 'not too far! Goodness knows what trouble you could get into if I let you out of my sight for even a second!'

Jane hugged herself tightly; it was much colder than she had anticipated. Oh, why hadn't she taken her coat? Mary had said it was rather chilly for April, and she had been right. Though, she had never been wrong. She _was_ practically perfect in every way, after all.

As she continued to walk, Jane looked around. Suddenly she realized that she had no idea where she was. She must have taken a wrong turn; the river was no where near here. She had ended up on a side street, where the middle class people lived in small but respectable looking homes.

'Hello?' she called, pulling the long sleeves of her dress over her hands, and secretly wishing she had her gloves as well. 'Is anyone here?'

She gave a little scream as someone popped around the corner of a building, face black with soot and a crooked smile on his face. He stepped onto the sidewalk and tipped his hat, stooping into a comically low bow, his nose nearly touching the ground.

'At your service, miss,' he said in a thick cockney accent. When he righted himself and placed his hat back on his head, he looked her up and down. 'Why, if it isn't Little Miss Jane Banks, out on her lonesome with no one around.'

Jane's bottom lip began to quiver. 'Oh, Bert,' she cried, flinging her arms around his middle and not caring how sooty she got in the process. 'E-everything is g-going wr-wr-wrong today!'

Bert laid a soothing hand on her shoulder and squat down so they were eyelevel. He wiped a tear off her cheek with a dirty finger, leaving a streak of soot there in it's place.

'Tell me all about it,' he said kindly, 'what could be so wrong for you to run away? I'm sure Mary Poppins and Michael is frantic, lookin' about for you and no way to know where you's gotten to!'

'I-it's my bi-birthday,' Jane said, crying hard now. 'And everyone forgot about me.'

'Even your Mum and Dad?'

'Even my Mother and Father.'

'Even little Michael?'

'Even little Michael.'

'And surely not,' Bert said, raising one eyebrow, 'even Mary Poppins?'

'Even Mary Poppins!' Jane wailed.

Bert looked very confused for a moment, but then, to Jane's surprise, he smiled and laid a hand on her shoulder. 'Forget your birthday? Nah, if I know Mary Poppins, you needn't worry about bein' forgotten,' he said, winking.

'What do you mean,' Jane asked skeptically, stifling her sobs. But Bert said nothing. He merely winked again and grabbed her hand, leading her through an intricate path of streets and side streets. Jane was unsure about how she had managed to get there, but was glad she had run into Bert.

The walk back to Cherry Tree Lane was much less frightening with Bert holding her small hand in his strong one. He sang happily of lucky chimney sweeps and gave Jane occasional reassuring glances. She felt much safer now.

They stopped at the gateway outside Number 17 so abruptly that Jane toppled over on the ground, tripping on the curb. She straightened herself up and looked around nervously. Bert cupped his hands around his mouth like a megaphone and called, 'Mary Poppins! I got something here you mighta been lookin' for!'

The window belonging to the nursery on the top left hand side of the house opened with a bang, and Mary's entire upper body was leaning out of it. Her normally pleasant face was now fixed with an expression of mingled relief and anger. Jane didn't know whether to be glad she was home, safe and sound, or afraid of what might happen to her when Mary Poppins got a hold of her. She stared at her shoes bashfully.

The flicker of fear had just entered Jane's body when Mary Poppins appeared at her side.

'Mary Poppins,' Jane started, a lump forming in her throat. She looked up, wanting to apologize a hundred times over, but Mary held up a single finger and turned to Bert.

'Thank you, Bert,' she said, her voice quivering slightly. He smiled at her and made a little bow. Mary turned around to face Jane.

'Do you have any idea,' Mary said, scowling, and Jane hunched her shoulders and took a few steps back, stumbling over a crack in the sidewalk, 'how worried I've been? Not to mention your poor parents! They were close to calling the police, young lady! You could have been lost or hurt or –'

'I'm sorry, Mary Poppins,' Jane wailed, tears streaming down her face. 'I didn't mean to worry you, really I didn't! I did get lost, but Bert found me, and I'm not hurt a-and I'm so sorry!'

'Oh, honestly, Jane,' Mary fussed, her face softening a little as she tried to brush a patch of soot of the front of Jane's dress. 'Of all the things to do while I was away, you had to go and get yourself lost. Well,' she sighed, resigned, and sounding far less angry than before, 'let's get you cleaned up, shall we? Go on, up to the nursery and change. Spit spot!'

Jane turned and hurried quickly through the gate, and stood on the step, waiting for Mary Poppins, who stayed with Bert. He removed his cap and smiled crookedly at her.

'Sorry about the fuss, Mary Poppins,' he apologized. She smiled faintly at him 'the poor thing was wandering about, lost and cryin' about bein' forgotten on her birfday. I was hopin' I could cheer 'er up somewhat, but nothin' I said seemed to make her feel one inch better.'

'We haven't forgotten her, Bert,' she said. 'You're so kind, thank you ever so much for walking her home.'

'Any time,' he said, grabbing Mary's hand and planting a tender kiss on it. 'I'll be off, then,' and he waved once to Jane and was gone. Mary's eyes stayed on his back as he hurried down the street, tucking his hands into his pockets.

Jane was looking again at her shoes when Mary joined her on the front step.

'Well, don't just stand there,' Mary said, pushing open the door and opening it to a completely dark room. Jane stumbled inside, and the lights came up in the living room. Standing around a table piled high with gifts were her mother, father, Cook, Ellen the housekeeper, Michael, Mrs. Locke from down the street with her terrier, Andrew, and her friends Lucy, Norah, Abigail and Susanna from school.

'Happy birthday, Jane,' they all cried, beaming at her. Her mother rushed forward to plant a kiss on her cheek.

'See, Jane,' said Michael, bumping his way through the crowd to get to her. 'We didn't forget you at all!'

Mary Poppins laid a hand on Jane's shoulder, and Jane looked up at her. She was smiling knowingly, and Jane wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her sooty dress.

'What do you say, Jane,' Mary said, indicating to her guests, who were all dressed up nicely. Cook had even changed out of her apron and put on a dress for the occasion.

'T-thank you, everyone,' Jane said, choking back tears. She felt awful; she'd been horrible the whole morning to everyone, and all the while they'd been planning a huge surprise party for her. She looked around again, noticing the crepe paper streamers and balloons of pink and yellow that was hung around the room.

With another look at Mary Poppins, Jane sobbed once and ran up the stairs to the nursery. She pushed open the door, which bounced off the wall, and flung herself down on her bed. She hid her face in her pillow for the second time that day and cried hard, feeling sorry for herself and ashamed at the way she'd behaved all day.

She sniffled and bawled into her pillow, unable to stop the flow of tears that were coursing down her cheeks. When she felt the bed shift under someone else's weight, she didn't look up to see who it was. That someone smoothed her hair, and Jane continued to sob.

'This is no way to thank everyone for your birthday,' Mary Poppins said quietly. Jane sniffled again, feeling worse than she had before. The guilt those few words pressed upon her was nearly unbearable; Mary had a way of making things ten times worse, and at the same time making them ten times better.

Jane finally looked up, and Mary gently tucked a strand of damp hair behind her ear. Jane took a few ragged breaths and tried to compose herself.

'I-I'm sorry,' she said hoarsely. 'I feel j-just aw-awful.'

'For what,' Mary asked.

'For being so h-horrid to you,' Jane said, trembling all over and feeling absolutely exhausted from crying.

'What's done is done,' Mary said simply.

'Do you hate me?'

'Hate you?' Mary said indignantly. 'How dare you suggest such a thing? I could never hate you, although sometimes I may be upset with you.'

Jane looked abashedly into Mary's piercing blue eyes, and she smiled softly.

'Come now,' Mary said, taking her hand, 'up you get. You have guests downstairs wondering why you're not there to enjoy the festivities. Come on, go get changed! Spit spot!'

Jane changed quickly into her favourite pink party dress and black paten leather shoes, and Mary brushed her hair and tied it back with a pink stain ribbon. After a glance in the mirror at her outfit, she hurried down the stairs behind Mary, beaming.

The rest of the evening was a blur for Jane; they opened presents, played party games, ate cake and had a wonderful time on the whole. Mary stood off to the side watching, and Jane occasionally caught her eye. She was extra careful to say, 'thank you ever so much' and 'I adore it!' over and over, and was sure she saw Mary's eyes twinkle every time she used proper, ladylike manners.

At around six o'clock, her friends' rides arrived. They thanked her one at a time as she walked them to the door, and Cook and Ellen tidied up the mess left behind. It wasn't long before Michael had been carried up the stairs by his father and put to bed; he had fallen asleep on the sofa.

'Thank you so much,' Jane said to her parents, standing on tip toe to kiss them both, even though they had crouched down to her.

'It was no problem, darling,' her mother said, smiling, linking arms with Mr Banks.

'Good night,' said her father, and walked Mrs Banks to their bedroom.

At last, it was only Mary and Jane left in the room together. Jane had made a huge ordeal of rearranging her gifts on the coffee table, and Mary waiting patiently.

Finally, Jane walked up to her nanny and threw her arms about Mary's waist. Mary Poppins laid her hands on Jane's back and squeezed her tightly.

'Thank you, Mary Poppins,' Jane said, smiling into Mary's skirt.

'For what?'

'For making this the best birthday ever.'

Mary pulled out of the hug and held Jane at an arms length. 'Well, off to bed with you,' she said briskly, though there was still a hint of a smile at her lips. 'Spit spot!' Jane beamed at her; she was so used to her stern but warm exterior, but she knew that underneath it all, Mary Poppins was very loving, indeed.

And it had been, at the end, the very best birthday Jane had ever had.


End file.
